My editor Wayne Reilly calls this the column that’s not a column. It’s an outdoor notebook filled with the odds and ends of news that didn’t make it into the paper during the week.

Well, not today. Today it’s a column.

By the time this hits the newsstands, I’ll be packing up the last of my belongings for a move south. I’m not leaving Maine, as I see it, just moving down the road to take over as the outdoor reporter at the Portland Press Herald.

Of course, it’s all a matter of perspective. My predecessor here said without mincing his words: “You are leaving Maine.”

To be sure, my cat Guinness and I will miss our front-porch view of the Penobscot River, tucked away on Penobscot Street. I came to Maine six years ago wanting to live by a river. I ended up with one of the best views around. Living so close to the mighty Penobscot, her current sings me to sleep.

Then, after finding one of the best houses around, I found my way into one of the best jobs. Or that’s what I tell people. And no one argues.

So why change a good thing? It seemed very sudden, is what one co-worker said. Well, so was 9-11.

Had the tragedy of Sept. 11 never happened, I would have been looking to move south eventually anyway. But since it did, it made my decision very simple.

As the granddaughter of a New York City firefighter, and the sister of a policeman who works outside the city, the pain of that event has been everlasting for my family and me. Finally they all seem too far away.

That’s not to say the challenge of covering outdoor sports in a different part of Maine for a different newspaper didn’t play a part. Even the meaning of my job became an issue for me after Sept. 11.

Two days after that event, I returned to work to finish a story on the efforts to reintroduce wolves in Maine. I interviewed two wildlife biologists on the phone and wondered why it even mattered. I thought about what I did and felt it was pointless.

I’ve had a lot of time to think about that since then, as I have about my family. And I came to realize they are connected.

The day the sports editor here, Joe McLaughlin, offered me the outdoor reporter job, in Bud Leavitt’s old office no less, it felt like a perfect fit, the same as when my older brother bought me downhill ski boots.

When Mike took me to a New York ski store four years ago, he let the salesman fuss over me until I tried on a pair and said they felt like spikes. Mike could follow the analogy in that comment coming from a former Division I All-American runner. He stopped the salesman and told him we’d take those.

When I started covering outdoor sports, the fit felt just as good. Right away, I wanted to take off running and learn all I could about taxidermists, trappers and dog trainers. Which isn’t to say I didn’t stumble or lose my way. It’s just that it’s been a good run.

And looking back now, I see it did matter.

The fact is, the times I rode, hiked or walked side-by-side with someone in the outdoors, I was aware of a strong sense that Maine’s wild areas meant more to them than simply a place to work or live. Some have said it’s where they can think. Some have even called Maine’s woods their cathedral.

For myself, I know the time I’ve spent walking in the woods or sitting along a river in Maine, whether hiking, fishing, or just thinking, is when I’ve been able to see what matters the most.

As I’ve covered the Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife’s budgetary troubles, I’ve heard people say the department’s needs can’t compete for state money with education, health care, or welfare. And I can see their point.

But I also know that in the past six years some of the best times I’ve spent with my family have been out on Maine’s waters, somewhere deep in its woods, or walking along its beaches. I remember that rafting trip with my brother, Jimmy, or the day spent with my Dad exploring the Lubec coast.

Moving closer to my family will mean having them visit me more in Maine. The times I’ve spent with them enjoying the waters, woods, coastline and beaches here have bound us ever more tightly.

For my money, those moments are as good as any medicine, more meaningful than any degree, and more valuable than I can say.

As with many people at the NEWS, I’ve learned a lot from my predecessor here. So I’m hoping he’s wrong about my leaving Maine. But the one truth he has reminded me of in so many salutations tells me I’m making the right move.

Tom Hennessey often says it’s just borrowed time we have here. We’re only living on borrowed time.

To the NEWS readers and all the critters I’ve covered, may yours be spent well.

Deirdre Fleming covered outdoor sports and recreation for the NEWS. Her last day was Tuesday.